Life Led By Guilt
by eravvi
Summary: *SPOILERS FOR HALF-BLOOD PRINCE* Albus Dumbledore's last thoughts. Mostly an experiment. Rated T for death, I suppose.


I choose this moment.

It must be now.

I believe that Harry is ready, and he can hunt Horcruxes on his own.

No, not on his own. He will have Ron and Hermione, who will undoubtedly go with him.

He will have the Order of the Phoenix.

I have put so much on his young shoulders. Perhaps I should not have, but such is the way that the world has carved.

I have done many things that I should not have.

Taking the Elder Wand was one such incident.

So much power that I could tap into. Commanding. Strong. Formidable. _Invincible._ Yet terrible, at the same time.

Like the truth, which I owe to Harry more than he could imagine.

"Severus," I whisper. I silently pray that Snape will keep his promise, the promise that kept him alive and will now kill me.

He steps towards me. Good. He has held true.

Harry will be devastated. He will believe that I was a fool.

And I am a fool, but not because I trust Severus.

I can see he doesn't want to do this. He is revolted that I have asked him to do this, that I have set him up, and lied to Harry about his true purpose.

If life is a game, I have played it to the best of my ability.

The Elder Wand will soon become Voldemort's target. This is the only way that its powers will die-with me.

"Severus... Please..."

Time is ticking fast. It will be now, or never. All I have worked for will not work if-

" _Avada Kedavra_!"

Good. Very good. I can feel the night air rushing past me, as time speeds faster than I can process, so that I think slower than I fall.

" _Death is the next great adventure,_ " I remind myself.

Fawkes, my dear phoenix will fly away to another life, one that he chooses. He has been so loyal.

He does not deserve this.

I can't tell I'm thinking about Harry or my pet anymore. Everything is blurring together.

The face of a young innocent girl fades into my thoughts. Ariana.

My sister.

Her death has driven me to the end of my own.

 _The blame was my own, the punishment hers._

I still do not know who has killed her.

Would it help if I did? Perhaps it is better I do not know.

Do I deserve this guilt? That I know. I do, for it is still my fault she has died regardless of who shot the curse that spelled out her untimely death.

 _And forgive me for being so blind._

I have made many mistakes. I let myself fall for the clever lies Gellert Grindewald spun from his ambitions. He has played me like a cat toys with a canary.

The Elder Wand's power has not died. It will not die with me.

But it is safely in Harry's power now. I can relax about that. My troubles are leaving me.

Except for the one about my sister. It floats in front of me, as tempting as power.

 _I love you, I miss you._

I do not deserve the truth anymore. I know that much. I have grown wiser about power, as time has passed.

The Killing Curse is taking effect on my body. Within moments I will be dead.

 _And when I dream, I'll fly away,_

 _and meet_

 _you_

 _there._

I can feel the last breaths of air escaping me. My heart will cease to beat and my thoughts will fade away.

I will see my sister again.

The guilt that has charged my life has been released from my mind.

 _Sleep..._

 _Sleep..._

 _Sleep..._

* * *

A simple short story about the scene that drove me mad.

The italized lyrics belong to a song called "Lullaby for a Princess" by Ponyphonic. That song has been stuck in my head for a while and I really like the ending. Imagine the lyrics as his subconscious. I highly recommend listening to the last two minutes of the song while reading this. (It's a bit late, isn't it, as this is the author's note?)

Albus Dumbledore was probably thinking of something more sophisticated things, but I'm not as smart as he was.

Really this was an experiment, for me. I figured I should take a break from writing things that could have or didn't happen, and write what did in a different PoV. (Even though I have no way to know if this is really what Dumbledore spent his last moments thinking about.) Also, a few years ago I realized I have no talent whatsoever when writing in first person, so I tried that as well. The only thing _inside_ my comfort zone are these short, choppy paragraphs, if you can call them that.

Reviews?


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